Cheating HIM
by Simonekingofthelumppycats13
Summary: It's been a week since the day they buried a friend and a partner. A lover, hers. Nobody expected Derek Morgan to die so soon, with a bullet buried in his chest, bleeding on the cold pavement with his lifeless eyes staring at a grey sky and a woman's cheeks were stained with tears.
1. Chapter 1

**_HEY! I'm really excited about this story! This is a little different that my other story and I promise I will be updating frequently! _**

**_I don't own anything... but I like to think I do._**

**_Hope you enjoy :)_**

* * *

**_Chapter 1_**

It's been a week since the day they buried a friend and a partner.

A lover, hers.

Nobody expected Derek Morgan to die so soon, with a bullet buried in his chest, bleeding on the cold pavement with his lifeless eyes staring at a grey sky while a woman's cheeks were stained with tears. Screams sounded, cries were heard, pleads were unanswered. People around her watched as her hands covered the wound, as her fists pounded his chest, as she was dragged away from the dead body. It was a dead body to them, another victim, but to her that dead body was her husband. The man who held her at night, the man who made love to her, who made her breakfast in the morning and brought her coffee at work. Who saw the ugliest parts of her life, the scars on her heart.

The memories are clear, fresh and curved, in her mind, she remembers how Dave snaked his arms around her and lifted her up. Away from him, from her husband, from the dead body on the ground. Her nails dug into his hands, her elbows hit his sides and she screamed at him. Cursed him, begged him to let her go. But he did not give in.

''I'm sorry.'' He stroked her hair and kissed her temple. ''I'm sorry Bella, I'm so sorry.''

The words left his mouth and didn't reach her ears. They found them deaf, and they flew free in the air instead.

As they sat there, she dared to peer over at where he was. One of the medic staff was above him.

''I need to go, they are taking him.'' His grip is tight. ''Please.'' She didn't fight.

Her friend dropped his arms, watched her as she ran.

**~CM~**

The medic's name was Richard, like her father's, and he told her they managed to get a pulse, a weak one. Her hand was clutching Morgan's as the ambulance headed to the hospital. A weak one, she kept repeating in her mind, a weak one. The man lying in front of her was dying, the hand she was holding was getting cold quickly.

''I'm sorry.'' Those were the doctor's first words.

However, she didn't cry, she was numb. JJ and Reid were there too; she comforted them yet she couldn't comfort herself. Her eyes were dry, and she felt nothing, profound and awful nothing.

The tears didn't come until after she arrived at her home, at their home. His pillow was in her arms, her face buried in it. His smell still there, rich and sweet. She curled up in their bed desperate from his warm embrace.

''Derek.'' She broke right there and then. Sobs rippled through her in huge, ugly spasms of grief.

One, two, three, four days or more she stayed inside. Scared of getting out in a world without him, or just too much of a coward. It was unlike her to feel so lost but without him she did not feel found.

Everyone had tried to speak with her, to see how she was holding up. JJ called many times before Emily found the courage to pick up her phone. She had listened as her friend talked, encouraged her to come out or she would get her out herself. No reply was given by the brokenhearted brunette. She just listened, and listened.

Finally JJ decided it was time to confront her friend face to face.

''You need a bath'' JJ turned to her ''And you need to go out today, Em.''

Why though? Why should she go out- he died. She's broke all over.

''It's his funeral."

That's why.

**~CM~**

It was a grey day then too, same as the day he died. Clouds covered the sun but allowed a bit of light to shower them. Such a beautiful grey sky. She stood tall and straight, watching. Hotch, Rossi and Reid along with other friends and agents from work carried his coffin. She watched.

The coffin entered the ground.

She watched.

After it was finished, many left.

She watched.

''We need to go. You should too.'' Hotch came closer with an arm around Beth's waist and holding Jack's hand.

Silence.

''Prentiss?''

She shook her head. ''I am not going anywhere.''

''Emily-''

''I will stay here with her,'' Rossi offered. ''I will see you later.''

Emily's eyes found his, a silent thank you.

He took a place next to her.

Neither of them talked, enjoyed the silence instead. Their gazes were locked on the new grave, the dead body in the ground found a place to rest.

''He had promised me,'' her voice is no more than a small whisper, broken words that lingered in her mind.

He waited for her to finish.

She didn't.

She turned on her heel as tears rolled down her cheeks, the word always escaping from her lips.

Α few days later, she learned about someone growing inside her. Three weeks. She carries the child of a dead man. A child without a father.

No one else learns about this.

**~CM~**

Now, she's sitting at her desk staring at the empty chair near hers. Reid glances at her from time to time, checking if she's still here with them or has dozed off. She does that lately, gets lost in old memories with him.

''Excuse me, Agent Prentiss?'' A young agent taps her on the shoulder and Prentiss looks up at her.

The same words are repeated once more.

''I am sorry for your loss.''

Again. She can't stand this.

The pitying looks on their faces, the apologizes on their lips and their hands on her shoulder that are supposed to be comforting. They aren't. It keeps reminding her that he's dead, God damn dead, and she wishes they could stop. Because she knows, she knows she won't see him ever again. Only in dreams and memories.

''Where are you going?'' the young genius asks when he sees her grabbing her car keys and putting on her coat.

She ignores his questions.

''Emily…?''

It's not that she has an answer for them. She doesn't know where she is going, she doesn't have a place to go and feel safe anymore. She gets in her car and rides off.

Death will visit her once more, soon.

* * *

**_I promise quick updates with this story, probably another chapter by tomorrow. Please review and I hope you have a nice day, or night... :)_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**I am very excited that readers are enjoying my story so much! Thank you for all the reviews and the support! **_

_**Here is chapter 2. I know its not terribly long but you'll understand why and you will be happy that I stopped where I did. :)**_

* * *

**_Chapter 2_**

_Years ago, when Emily Prentiss was a young girl with a broken heart for the first time, Elizabeth Prentiss told her something. Something her daughter didn't quite understand at that age._

_''All great stories come to an end,'' her mother had said, her tone half teasing, half serious._

_That day, the tears in her eyes and the ripped heart in her chest, were caused by a boy. Her best friend, her first love. Ah, the first love. Mark, was the boy's name, and he lived near their house until her mother was posted in another embassy. And she couldn't stay behind. And so, she gave him a goodbye kiss on the cheek and a hug. The sight of his crooked teeth as he offered her one, last, smile before he ran off to his house._

_Emily Prentiss was six years old then, she wanted a pony to ride and travel the whole world. And she needed her friend. That night, the words her mother told her echoed in her mind. But she was still young, so young, and wondered why great stories had to end. Couldn't they last forever?_

_Why couldn't their story have a longer run, she asks herself now, why couldn't their story have a happy ending?_

Her hands clutch the steering wheel tightly and her knuckles color themselves white. For the past two hours she drives around the streets of Washington DC with her eyes on the road and her mind on _him._

Why did he have to leave her so early. After so many demons they fought and such hell they've been through to get where they were, they deserved something better than this. They deserved the always they promised to each other. And the child she has growing inside her deserves to have a father.

Tears blind her vision and stream down her face. She tries to wipe them away, using the sleeves of her shirt but they keep coming back and she gives up. Lets them roll until they reach her chin and then they drip on her clothes.

She sobs for what she lost, for what she will never have.

A husband.

A family.

A father to her child.

Oh, how much she wishes she could see his eyes again, brown and so full of life. His face and a smile on his lips. Even if it was the last time, she wishes she could see it, touch it with the tip of her fingers, kiss it.

Like the boy's.

But instead of her mother's job, Death took Derek away from her.

The shadow that sits and waits in the backseat of her car, he's waiting to take one of them. Both of them, maybe.

The light turns green, and she steps on it.

It takes just a moment, a few seconds, and another car slams into her side. And the shadow stands up, leaves the car, kneels next to her.

She cheats him once again.

* * *

_**Chapter 3 is coming tomrrow! Thank you for reading and have a nice day. :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter three is here and i hope you enjoy. I am sorry for being so evil but I can't have the next chapter until Sunday because I will be out of the province for a tournament._**

**_I hope you enjoy!_**

* * *

**_Chapter 3_**

Smoke fills her nostrils, along with the smell of fresh blood. And there is so much pain, so much.

In her middle.

Please, _no._

With a throbbing head and eyes that burn, she blinks once and once more. Black spots dance in her vision and she closes them briefly before she opens them again. Something rolls down her head, spreads itself across her face, over her lips and its metallic taste makes her sick. She tries to raise her left hand, to wipe it away, away from her skin but she can't move it. And it hurts, it hurts so God damn much.

"Shit," she curses under her breath and more blood gets into her mouth.

Around her, the window of the driver's seat is ruined. Pieces of broken glass dug into her hands and others left long, yet not deep cuts on her skin. She wishes that was all, a head injury and cuts on her hands, but it's not.

It's not. It's way worse.

She looks down, her jeans are soaked in the red liquid. Her middle aching painfully.

"No," she whispers, "no, please."

The baby, their baby. The only part of him that is still with her. Was gone? She doesn't know. Tears fill her eyes as she clutches her abdomen. They run down her cheeks and mix with her blood. Sobs rock her body, and the pain is double.

"Help!" she screams.

She cries. "God, please. Someone, help."

She can hear people yelling, coming to her aid.

And she screams again, and again, until her voice dies in her throat and her eyes close.

Darkness finds her, it embraces her.

"Help me get her out of there," the man says.

The paramedics push him back politely. "Let us do our job, Sir."

The man nods at last. "Fine."

The first thing she notices, is the peacefulness of the place. Is this even a place though? She doesn't know where she is. But it's nice. The pain long gone, the blood too, the smoke that filled her nose is now clean air. And she's sure.

She's dead.

Where is he?

Where is her husband? Derek?

He died too.

But he's not here.

There is a shadow coming closer to her. And she wonders if that's him.

"Get out of here," the shadow hisses. "It's too soon. Get out!"

She wants to protest, she wants to stay there and find him.

She doesn't have a voice to speak.

"Welcome back, Agent Prentiss." The woman is young, probably in her mid twenties. "You worried us for a moment."

Emily frowns, and her eyes browse around the room. "Where-" The words stick in her mouth.

"Here." The nurse offers her a cup of water, and she swallows slowly.

Then, coughs and licks her dry lips "Where am I?"

"At the hospital. My name is Denise, by the way."

Emily nods.

"You were in a car accident. And when we brought you here you died on us." Denise sighs. "But we managed to get you back"

Suddenly, panic rises inside her. Perhaps, she's back, she's alive. But what about the baby, their child?

"Hey." Denise places her hands on Emily's shoulders when she lifts her upper body from the bed. "You need to rest. The doctor will soon be here to explain furthermore."

"The baby," she croaks out. "what about the baby?" she repeats. She needs to know, she needs the assurance that the life growing inside her is still there. Her child is okay. The last part of him is still with her.

Denise smiles. "Don't worry." She turns around as the doctor enters the room.

"Nice to see you alive, Agent Prentiss." He checks the notes in his hands "Both of you." He points with his gaze at her abdomen.

There is a smile across the face of woman that lies on the bed.

The doctor returns it. "The little one is a fighter, like its mother. As for your injuries," the doctor goes on. Informing her about the head injury and how it would leave a nasty scar behind that would heal with time. Also, she broke her left hand, which will have to remain in the cast for six to eight weeks. Some deep cuts on her hands were stitched and bandaged along with the others.

"Thank you," the young brunette says and looks up. "Is JJ here?"

"Yes. We called her first. And some of your friends came as well. Denise will call him for you."

Denise nods "Of course"

Emily watches as they leave.

Everyone is here but her husband to hold her hand.

"Where are you Morgan?" she murmurs.

Little does she know that the corpse in the coffin, the one they buried in the ground, didn't belong to Derek Morgan.

* * *

**_SOooo what do you think? Hope you enjoyed this chapter and have a nice day! :)_**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Thank you to all the reader and to everyone that has left a review. I love to hear what you are thinking of my story and it makes me happy to know that so many people are liking what I have written so far! Thank you to all of you!_**

**_Here a very long overdue chapter 4. Hope you enjoy!_**

* * *

**_Chapter 4_**

Dark, brown eyes stare at her.

A few strands of soft, curly, dark brown hair tickle her face as she places a small kiss on the top of her head.

A beautifully adorable little girl she is.

Like her father.

The baby in her arms is no more than three months old. Blinking at her curiously and giggling all at the same time, her toothless smile brings a smile on her own lips too.

''Shh,'' she rocks her daughter in her arms gently.

It's been a year since the accident, the wound on her forehead is a silver line now and most of the scars on her hands have faded away. Leaving only the memories behind. She still has nightmares of the car crash and wakes up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. Someone always dies and she's there to weep. First, it was her baby that died in her arms and then Derek again. Slumped back in the seat, blood pouring out of a deep gash on his head.

She closes her eyes for a brief moment and opens them again to look at the baby, asleep and safe in her mother's embrace. If only she could have her husband's arms wrapped around both of them as well, if only she could have him in her life again.

If only.

She stands up, walks to the crib, places the baby inside and lingers over her for a minute.

''Goodnight, Sweetheart.'' She kisses the baby once more. "Sleep tight Josie," she whispers.

A sigh escapes her mouth as she leaves from the room.

It's late at night, almost eleven o'clock and she's exhausted. Being a mother is one of the best, and nicest things in the world but it's tiring too. She takes out a glass from the cupboard and sets it on the table, and before she has the chance to fill it her phone rings.

''Hey, Jayje.'' she secures the phone between her ear and shoulder as she pours some water.

''Hey, you. Sorry for calling so late. Just wanted to check on you.'' She can hear a man's voice as well as her friend's.

''Everything is fine here. How about over there? You and Will enjoying your night?'' she teases.

JJ pauses.

''Yes,'' she says at last.

Emily laughs. Something that had come very rarely until Josephine was born. ''Better hang up the phone, sounds like someone is impatient''

''Very.'' JJ squirms and moans and Emily almost spits out the water she's drinking.

''Okay, I'm gonna go now. Goodnight.''

''Yes, sorry. Goodnight, Em,'' she says quickly. ''I told you to shut up Will, you're gonna wake Henry.''

Prentiss shakes her head and smiles. Those two need to get married already. And they will in a few months. She is going to tease them as much as they did at her wedding.

Ah, her wedding.

The ring is still on her finger, the diamonds shining under the light. She can't bring herself to remove it, and she doesn't want to.

They tell her to move on.

But she's stuck.

She runs a hand through her freshly-washed hair.

The house is so empty without him. Derek's mother Fran and his sisters visit from time to time, to see if she's all right. But they have a life too. Desiree is a grown woman now, has a man, a house. And Emily is happy for her.

She really is. And she wishes Derek was here too, to see his little sister.

And his daughter.

Once again, tears fill her eyes and she doesn't allow them to escape. Instead, she pads to their bedroom and before she reaches his office someone knocks on the door. She glances at her husband's old watch on her wrist.

She frowns, it's too late for visits.

The knocking continues, she opens the door and her jaw drops.

She greets the brown eyes she never thought she would see again. And God, she swears she hasn't seen them so alive before.

* * *

**_Sooooo, What did you think? I hope you liked it and have a goodnight_**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Here is chapter 5! I hope you enjoy what happens in this one!**_

* * *

**_Chapter 5_**

The day was cold, the sky was dressed in a dark shade of grey and his eyes stared at it, somehow glued. Unmoving. He remembers it, he does, the tear-stained face that belonged to his wife too. Her voice, pleading and begging and crying all at the same. Really, he did try to turn his head to her, to move his gaze on hers and promise everything will be fine, not to worry. But he couldn't. The pain was so very much in his chest, as well as a hole with a bullet in it.

Fingers swimming and soaking themselves in his own blood.

Nobody saw it coming. Nobody saw Michael Davidson, their UnSub with a gun in his hands coming closer to him. His eyes were covered with black sunglasses, half of his face with a scarf and his head wore a cap. For him, Derek was an easy target at that time – finishing a flirting conversation with Penelope on the phone and pacing back and forth on the pavement while Prentiss and the rest of the team were inside the victim's apartment. The victim was a blonde woman found struggled in her house with her hands clasped in front of her. Davidson's usual way of killing.

Michael Davidson came back, to finish the job.

But who would have thought that the murderer would have stayed at the crime scene. Waiting, to trap him.

It wasn't until the phone was in his pocket and he had turned around, ready to go inside and assist with the investigation when the UnSub showed himself, aimed the gun at his chest and fired. And still, even though the place was crawling with cops he managed to get away and escape as Derek bled out on the ground, choking on the air his lungs couldn't breathe.

He believed in Heaven and Hell and he thought he would go somewhere nice.

Confused, he wakes up in a hospital moaning in pain.

''Emily,'' he whispers, he needs his wife.

''Easy,'' a female voice sounds in the room, and it isn't hers, it is different.

''Emily,'' he says again.

''She's not here.'' He blinks at the woman in front of him who smirks. ''Don't you remember me, Morgan?''

Jordan Todd, who else.

''Where is Emily?'' he demands, raises his upper body as he tries to stand up and pain shoots through him. ''Where is she?''

''Lie down.'' Jordan pushes him back gently. ''She is not here.''

He frowns. ''Where is she?'' he asks.

''To her you are a dead man now, Morgan.''

His frown deepens, forehead creases. ''What?''

She sighs. ''Davidson shot you and until we catch him you are under the protection of the FBI.'' She offers him a cup with water to sip and he declines it.

''She needs to know I am alive,'' he insists.

''That can't happen.'' She shakes her head sadly. ''No one must know. It's for your own good.''

"Why? I can take care of myself!" he protests.

"He's a dangerous man. We can't take that risk," she says, shaking her head.

"What if he comes after my wife? What about Emily?" Anger fills his veins. How was he going to protect her if she thinks he's dead?

"With you dead, she's not in danger." Then Jordan bows her head and leaves so Derek can rest.

Though she knew he would not.

Derek Morgan lay back in his bed defeated, his chest aching with every breath he took. He was helpless.

Days later, they moved him to a house outside of the city. Guarded by agents. They offered him books, to read and take his mind off the current situation he was in. He didn't have access to a phone or internet. No way to contact his wife. He could only wait and pray.

It helped a bit, to read, to be able to use these stories to escape reality and get his anger out of his system that way. His feelings. It was much more peaceful in his novels. It made the pain bearable. As for the wound, it was healing slowly and he was regaining his strength. He wished he could have her by his side, holding his hand as he made his first steps after a long time. But at the same time, he didn't. Because she would witness his breakdowns, his tears and screams.

She would kiss them away.

Oh, Emily.

''I'm sorry,'' he cried into his pillow at night.

He hugged it as if it was her.

A few months passed and the stitches were gone, replaced by a scar. A piece of red, damaged and patched skin. He noticed it when he traced the tips of the fingers of his shaking hand over it. Wincing, he lowered his shirt and sat back on his bed.

Waiting.

For what though?

Michael Davidson is a clever man, they tried to catch him and they couldn't. How will they do it?

It might take months, years.

He grabbed his latest read, placed it in his hands and started skim the pages trying to run away from this hell.

Three hundred and sixty-three days pass, almost a whole year away from her. No news from Jordan yet, and he continues to wait and wait and wait.

He scratches his beard, paces back and forth around his room.

It's when the door opens, and the agent walks in. The smile on her face makes his heart fill with hope.

She looks at him. ''We got him.''

A smile finds a place on his lips and then it fades.

''What happened?''

She shrugs. ''All I can say is that he blew himself up.''

''He's dead?''

She nods. ''Seems like you can go home, Morgan.''

God, he can't stop smiling.

Jordan is at the door when he turns around. ''But first, shave that thing off your face.''

The neighbor looked at him like he was a ghost when he politely said hi to her. Well, it's been a year since he walked down this street, since he saw the entrance of his own house.

He smiles as he stands in front of his door and knocks.

He waits one minute or two and then it opens.

''Emily,'' he says breathlessly.

* * *

_**Sooo? What did you think of that? I hope you liked it and please leave a review! have a nice night... or morning.. or afternoon. (I think you get the point :))**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**I'm happy that everyone is really liking my story! Big thank you to all the readers and reviews and favoriters and followers! Here is the much anticipated 6th chapter. Hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

_**Chapter 6**_

Shock flows down her face, across her lips and down her neck. It spreads all over her while her insides feel like they are twisted into an icy knot and her breath catches in her throat. And her eyes, oh, her eyes can't even blink at the sight in front of her. The sight of the husband she thought she had lost, now standing and staring at her with those piercing brown eyes of his. With his fists at his sides, preventing his hands from reaching out and wrapping themselves around her body. And he waits.

She stares back. Her eyes stinging from keeping them open for so long.

"Emily," he says, finally breaking the unbearable silence that was settled between them. "Emily, it's me." His feet move a step closer, and she copies them by taking a step back.

They buried him, they put him in a coffin and buried it in the ground. They said he was dead, they said he was gone.

"No." She shakes her head "No."

"Em-"

"No, you are dead." She points at him with her finger "You. Are. Dead," She says again.

"It wasn't me." He lowers his gaze. "The man you buried wasn't me."

After the lie is revealed and the truth is told he dares to look up. He finds the tears on her cheeks and the evidence of his betrayal written on her face. She wipes them away furiously, and flicks her eyes up for a glance at him.

"So, everything was just a big a lie, huh? Your death was fake and the doctor was lying and-" She swallows. "Why the hell would you do this to me Derek?!" she yells at him.

"Let me explain."

She doesn't hear him.

"I needed you around, Derek, and you weren't there!" She screams, jabbing her finger at his chest. He flinches as it makes contact with the bullet wound. "I needed you," she cries through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry, Emily." The lump in his throat tightens.

As she keeps hitting his chest with her fists, he stands there and then puts his arms around her body and pulls her against him. She doesn't protest, she hides her face in the crook of his neck and sobs uncontrollably. He holds her, comforts her, it's the least he can do after everything that happened.

"I am sorry," he murmurs in her hair and kisses it.

A cry startles him, but not her.

He frowns.

Emily slowly abandons his warmth and heads towards their bedroom. He follows. Stops when they enter his office first, he looks around the room where he had spent so much time. Nothing changed in here. He shakes his head, this not the matter now. He turns and walks to where she is.

He freezes in his tracks.

"Emily?"

There is a baby in her embrace.

Oh God, no.

"I didn't know." His voice wavers and he stumbles over his own words. "I shouldn't have come-"

She's moved on.

She has a baby.

She has another man waiting for her, kissing her smile and tasting her skin.

"She's yours," she whispers, "ours."

Oh.

He kneels between her legs and watches the life they created in her arms. It squirms and giggles.

"How old is she?" he asks.

"Three months old." She trails a finger over the girl's cheek.

He smiles.

"Her name is Josie, Josephine."

"She's gorgeous." His eyes sparkle. "Can I hold her?"

There is a pause, and she nods. She places her daughter carefully in his arms and sits back on the bed. Josie giggles again at the new face she meets.

"She's smiling at me, Emily!"

A smile tugs at her lips and she offers it to him.

Time passes and the baby is soon enough asleep and Derek stares at her, doesn't want to put his daughter back in the crib just yet.

"I can't believe I missed the birth of my daughter," he tells her.

"I can't believe you did that either, Derek." She doesn't blame him, just answers.

She leaves him alone and goes to the bathroom.

* * *

When she comes out Josie is in her bed and Derek is standing near her. He turns to Emily.

"Say the word and I'm gone," he says. "Just let me sleep on the couch tonight and tomorrow I will go to a hotel."

She reaches out with one hand, fingers curl around his wrist and tug him down to their bed.

"It's your home too, Derek, remember?"

He does.

They lie close to each other. But sleep doesn't come for him, no, his mind can't stop working and running over the fact that he has a child, a beautiful little girl. That he left his wife alone for a year. What he did to her without wanting it.

He sighs, scoots a bit closer, slips a hesitant arm around her abdomen and hides his face between her shoulder blades. His hand clutches at the front of the top she's wearing and his tears soak the back of it.

"I love you," he mumbles and the words aren't caught only by his ears.

Emily Prentiss has her eyes open and her ripped heart begins to stitch itself back together.

* * *

**_Thanks for reading and review! Ya'lls r gr8! 3 _**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Hey! So this is the final chapter and I want to thank everyone for the wonderful reviews and to all the people that Followed this story and Favorited it... and me. You guess are the best :) **_

_**Spoiler: I'm posting chapter 7 of my other story Shawna on Sunday night so you can look forward to that!**_

* * *

**_Chapter 7_**

The sun hasn't showed himself yet when he wakes up with someone's hair tickling his nose and the smell of cherries filling his nostrils. A head rests on his chest. Slowly, he blinks and opens his eyes, licks his sleep-dried lips. It was three hours ago when his mind and brain decided to take a break and allow him to rest. He didn't object. Now, a smile spreads across his face as he lowers his eyes and spots his wife snuggling against him. He is her favorite, private pillow. He doesn't object about that, either. It almost feels like nothing changed, like he didn't disappear for a year, didn't leave her alone and didn't miss the birth of his own daughter.

He sighs.

A daughter, he has a daughter and still, he can't believe it. When he heard that cry yesterday and saw her with a baby in her embrace, he thought of the worst possible scenarios. Maybe, she had forgotten about him and moved on, found another man and had a child with him. And then, she told him she was his and it felt as if the earth disappeared below his feet. Happiness overtook him, and joy filled him. A child with her was something he wanted from the very start of their more than partners relationship. But he was angry with himself as well, he imagined the moment she found out she was pregnant and he was supposed to be dead. She was alone, with a dead husband, without help. And the day she gave birth, lying on the hospital bed screaming his name and trying to reach for his hand to hold and she found none.

He was hidden in a house, doing nothing.

Giving himself a mental shake he looks down once more and tucks a few strands of stray hair away from her face and behind her ear.

''I'm sorry,'' he whispers and pulls away slightly to place a kiss on her temple. She stirs, yet doesn't open her eyes, and buries herself deeper in the cave of his body.

A tear rolls down his cheek. Only he knows how much he missed her all this time, how much he missed her body against his, her eyes meeting his and her mouth on his.

Her voice.

His wife.

He sniffs, rubs his eyes with one hand while the other sneaks around Emily's shoulders, holds her tightly.

His grip bruising.

''Derek?'' she asks, clearly confused and caught dazed between being awake and asleep. Raising her head, she gazes at him.

He swallows past the lump in his throat. ''Hey.'' he says, his voice cracked and hoarse.

''What happened?''

''Nothing.''

She frowns.

It seems that she now realizes how close they are and she tries to put some space between them, but he holds her there.

''Stay, please,'' he begs her.

She's angry with him.

She wants to hurt him as much as he did her.

She stays where she is though.

''Thank you.'' He plants a kiss on the soft skin on the side of her neck. ''And sorry for all of this, for what I did.''

Anger flares in her eyes, rage swells in her chest and she shoves him back. ''I don't need your apologies, Derek. I need to know why.'' She controls her voice at the last minute, well aware of the girl sleeping in the crib.

''I know. You deserve to know. Just not in here.'' He glances at Josie and back at her. ''Let me go make us some coffee and then we can talk; I will explain.''

''Don't you think I've waited long enough?'' she hisses at him.

A cry fills the room and she bites her lip.

Idiot.

''Not in here.'' he repeats.

There are two mugs with steaming, hot coffee on the counter when she comes out and finds him waiting for her. She combs a hand through her messy hair and walks to him, places her open palms on the solid surface and looks up at him from under her eyebrows.

''How is our little girl?''

''Sleeping once again and no longer hungry,'' she answers.

He grins. ''Coffee?'' he offers.

''No.'' She sets the mug aside ''Explain?''

He swallows hard, and does what he's asked. The memories are far from pleasant, but she deserves to know what happened, why he was not with her for a year, and so he describes the hell he had gone through, the pain. Different emotions take over her face, the anger reduces itself and leaves room for an empty sadness that comes and changes to sympathy for him.

''Michael Davidson?'' Her eyes widen. ''I thought he was dead...''

''I thought that too.''

To tell you the truth, he doesn't really believe that the man is dead. He is somewhere, hiding and recovering, regaining his strength to come back. He's waiting to strike once more. And this time, Derek isn't so sure he is going to survive. Not if instead of him, Davidson hurts his wife or child.

Or maybe both.

''And is he dead now?''

He shakes his head ''I don't know, Em. Jordan told me he blew himself up. But… I don't know.'' He lifts his chin and the softness in her eyes surprises him.

''I still feel betrayed and angry.'' She circles her arms around his waist and clasps her hands behind his back. ''I understand though.''

She kisses him long and hard and deep.

And suddenly, he can breathe again.

* * *

_**Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this story. Tell me if you want a sequel! Thank you!**_


End file.
